


i know you've made up your mind (so leave me here behind)

by omgprepon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, I dont really know, Modern Setting, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5479007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgprepon/pseuds/omgprepon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this world will devour you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i know you've made up your mind (so leave me here behind)

**Author's Note:**

> hey, I don't really know what I'm doing but here you go. please be kind.

your fingers curl around the sides of the cup and the ridges of it create indentations in the palms of your hands. you feel the heat of its contents being transferred to your hands and you're certain that if you pulled them back, they would be red with heat.

  
the contents of the cup are an entirely different matter, you think as you stare into the seemingly endless depths of the glorified dark liquid. you've never been one for coffee. in fact you despise its taste, but you think it's awfully fitting for the conversation you're about to have. bitter.

  
theres a shift, an audible intake of breath and suddenly you feel the flames of anger licking at every fibre and nerve end of your being. you look up and she's staring straight at you. her eyes boring into your own, then you feel her eyes shift and lock onto the heart shaped pendant you keep around your neck and it feels as though this girl sitting across from you– with her head of brown curls tucked into a neat braid and eyes as green as a tropical rain forest– wants to burn holes through your chest cavity with her eyes and create little craters in your heart.

  
you breathe.

  
“does it feel like you're running away?”

the words leave your mouth in a steady flow. all harsh edges and venomous tips and you're slightly proud of the fact that you sound so put together (like you aren't so close to coming apart at just the whisper of your name).

  
her eyes widen a fraction (of course you notice, you notice everything about this girl) and she's taken aback, slightly. you can see the cogs of her brain turning, pushing out an answer, you see it in the tensing of her jaw. she speaks and her voice is soft.

  
“no.”

  
it's curt and nothing less than what you expected. you think it should hurt, and maybe it does, but you let out this mirthless laugh instead. she looks at you and tilts her head slightly, studying you. it makes you feel uneasy, like she knows (of course she does, this girl knows everything about you).

  
“well, it feels like it to me. ”

  
you see her jaw tense again and you look away. you take in the people surrounding you, you wonder how they all seem to be so composed when everything is crumbling around you.

  
you bring the cup up to your lips and as the liquid slips down your throat you wonder how many cups of coffee it will take for you to get used to the taste. (it's a lot like the green eyed girl sitting across from you in that sense)

  
“you knew this was coming. it was coming since before you.”

  
you still don't look at her. you wonder where that anger went, because all you feel right now is resignation.

  
your fingers peel away at the side of the cup, revealing to you its many layers and you wholeheartedly wish that you could do the same to her. you're disappointed to find only brown paper beneath it all, and you sigh, it feels like a metaphor for life; spending time to peel back all these damn layers, only to be left with worthless brown paper. worthless. you shove the cup back and the silence laps at you, it could've been years that have passed before you speak again.

  
“before me. it was coming before me. still, you knowingly let this happen?”

  
you wave a hand between the two of you, and yeah you feel that anger start back up again.  
“you say that as if I had a choice, clarke.”

  
it's the first time she says your name for the entire duration you've been sitting here and you loathe the way it makes you feel. you absolutely hate the way your name sounds coming from her lips at the moment, the soft curl of the r followed by the hard click of the k and it makes you want to hurl.

  
“you knew, lexa, you knew!” your voice is slightly shaky but you don't pay attention to it, much less to how much everything else is trembling, too.

  
“i didn't have a choice. i–i couldn't just make myself stop falling in l—” she stops herself and takes a breath.

  
you can tell that she's angry at herself, you see the telltale signs in the way her hands are curled into fists and latching onto the table with a white knuckled grip. you can tell with the way she won't meet your eyes. you sigh for the nth time, this is tiring.

  
“you can't keep running, lexa.”  
“i'm not run—”  
“you can't keep running when shit gets tough. you—”  
“i am not running away from anything. i was scheduled to leave before i had even met you.”  
you nearly laugh.  
“stay.”

  
lexa swallows.

  
“clarke.”  
“lexa. stay, if you're not running, then stay.”  
“i can't just st—”  
“you've been running for so long, lex. why?”  
lexa looks away and her grip tightens, you ghost your fingers against her knuckles and she loosens her grip, just.  
“this– this is what i do, clarke. this is how i survive.”  
“maybe life should be about more than just surviving.”  
“maybe,” lexa sighs, “maybe it is. but not for people like me, clarke.”  
“lex—”  
“love is weakness, clarke. any signs of weakness and this world will devour you.”  
“lexa. stay, please.”  
there are tears, but neither of the two women make a move to wipe at them.  
“i can't, clarke.”  
“i love you. stay.”  
“i am sorry.”  
“lexa. please don't do this.”  
“clarke, stop. please.”  
“lex—”

  
there's a scraping of metal on linoleum as a chair is pushed back and you feel her lips brush your forehead. there's a hand braced on the table, shaking slightly. lexa pulls back, but you still feel her breath fan across your face. she speaks; it's a whisper so soft your barely hear it.

  
“may we meet again, clarke. ”

  
and then she's walking away with her trademark measured steps and you feel your world falling apart with every step she takes away from you.  
may we meet again.

  
_may we meet again._

_may we meet again._

**Author's Note:**

> ha, still getting rid of the trailer angst / tension


End file.
